


Warm and Home

by jonsastan (lilzipop)



Series: A Dream of Spring [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Sansa goes to Essos instead of the vale, i dunno, i havent thought that much ahead, maybe varys helped her not littlefinger, sansa gets to know dany before jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 08:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19291693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilzipop/pseuds/jonsastan
Summary: He had gone east in search of a sister, but found a cousin.They’d killed him. Stabbed him and left him bleeding in the snow, dead. And then he wasn’t dead, but he was cold. He felt like ice and snow ran in his veins and now amount of fire or flame could warm.He was at White Harbour, looking for a ship heading south. As far south as south goes. When he heard the captain speaking, of a girl with brown hair and grey eyes that had seen too much. He’d grabbed the captain’s collar and demanded details.It sounded like Arya, the only hint of Arya being alive since their father had lost his head. He followed that whisper to Braavos, but the whisper died there. It was there he learnt his name.





	Warm and Home

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of Jonsa: A dream of Spring and I chose Essos as my prompt!

He had gone east in search of a sister, but found a cousin. 

 

They’d killed him. Stabbed him and left him bleeding in the snow, dead. And then he wasn’t dead, but he was cold. He felt like ice and snow ran in his veins and now amount of fire or flame could warm. 

 

He was at White Harbour, looking for a ship heading south.  _ As far south as south goes _ . When he heard the captain speaking, of a girl with brown hair and grey eyes that had seen too much. He’d grabbed the captain’s collar and demanded details. 

 

It sounded like Arya, the only hint of Arya being alive since their father had lost his head. He followed that whisper to Braavos, but the whisper died there. It was there he learnt his name.

 

He learnt the truth from two men, and a book. Howland Reed, Jon Connington, and a Maester’s journal. He was not Jon Snow. He was Jaehaerys Targaryen.

 

So he went searching for his aunt.  _ A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing _ Maester Aemon had said, so he would try and find his family, maybe then the ice in his veins would warm. They stood now, Howland Reed, Jon Connington, and him, in the white marble chamber of the Great Pyramid. Unsullied guarded the doors and faint murmurs could be heard beyond them. 

 

Jon caught words, phrases. 

 

_ Liar. Fake. Usurper.  _ His fist curled and tightened. But then other words, in a voice that was almost familiar.  _ Honourable. Brave. Strong. _ They were beckoned to enter by a slender girl with olive brown skin and natural curls. 

 

Jon bowed, and the girl with the curls spoke.

 

“You have the honour of being in the presence of Daenerys of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons.” He heard the rustle of silks and raised his eyes to the petite woman sitting on a marble bench. It was not the Queen’s beauty that made his breath catch in his throat, but the woman standing beside her. 

 

“Rise, my lords.” The Queen spoke in a voice that was confident and assured. “May I present my ward and most trusted advisor, Sansa of House Stark, the Red Wolf.”

 

_ It’s her. _

 

Sansa stood, her hair cut shorter than he’d ever seen it but still beautifully red. His cheeks flushed as he saw the pale white flesh of her stomach and arms. Her dress was made of a pinkish gold and was in the style of Meereen, much like the Queen’s.

 

Connington spoke.

 

“May I present, Jaehaerys of the Houses Targaryen and Stark, true born son of the Last Dragon, The White Wolf, Former Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, Bastard of Winterfell, and Lord of the Free Folk.”  Jon almost winced at the titles. He did not wish to have them, they meant nothing, just pomp and grandeur that mattered little. 

 

His aunt raised an eyebrow, but Sansa’s eyes did not move from his face. 

 

“ _ Former _ Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch?” She rose from her marble bench and stalked down the stairs to where Jon, Reed, and Connington stood. “Forgive me if I am mistaken, for I was forced to flee my home and know only what I have been told of Westeros, but one joins the Night’s Watch for life, does one not?”Daenerys asked, a wry and charming smile on her lips. Sansa had fallen in behind the Queen and descended also, eyes still fixed on Jon. 

 

“Aye, your grace.” Affirmed Jon.

 

“Then how does one become a former Lord Commander?” Her wry and charming smile vanished. 

 

“My watch ended.” The hall was filled with heavy silence, until Sansa’s quiet and ladylike voice spoke. 

 

“Your grace, perhaps we should hear the evidence as to Lord Snow’s identity?” Jon did not miss the gentle brush of Sansa’s fingers on Daenerys’ arm, nor the calm effect it seemed to have on the Dragon Queen. 

 

“I agree.” 

 

Jon Connington spoke first, with a story of battles and blood and a babe. Howland Reed continued the tale, speaking of ships and secrets and silence. Jon finally offered Daenerys the Maester’s journal describing the union of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. 

 

Daenerys heard every word and skimmed the pages placed before her. Sansa listened intently, and read each word written on the page when Daenerys handed her the journal. When all was said and done another heavy silence filled the chamber. 

 

“It seems,” Daenerys turned as ascended to her bench-like throne. “I am not as alone in the world as I once thought, Nephew.” Jon bowed to her. 

 

“Sansa, sweetling, please show our guests to their chambers, then summon my Small Council and return to me. We have much to discuss.” Sansa curtsied the curtsey she had mastered at age four and led the men out of the chamber. She showed Reed and Connington to large chambers where hot, scented water already awaited them in large copper baths. 

 

When just her and Jon walked the corridor he tried to speak to her.

 

“Sansa, where-” 

 

“Not yet.” She hissed, silencing him.

 

Later, after servants had been with candles and food and fresh clean silken clothes, when the moon was high and it seemed the city itself was sleeping, Jon heard a gentle tap on his chamber door. He opened it and Sansa slipped inside. She was dressed in a pale blue nightgown with a deep grey shawl wrapped about her despite the heat. 

 

He devoured the sight of her. His family, no matter if she was a cousin. She was all that was good and right and true. She was Winterfell, and summer snows, and direwolf banners. She was Robb’s grin, and Arya’s mischief, and Bran’s laugh, and Rickon’s smiles. She was home. 

 

And for the first time since he had been dragged back into life, Jon Snow felt warm. 

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this is unbeta'd so please forgive my mistakes. I made an edit on my tumblr (jonsastan) check it out and drop me a prompt! Comments and Kudos are my bread and butter! :)


End file.
